


Parasitic Love

by Ketakoshka



Series: Dread Child Jon [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Amherst just wants to be a good dad, Bugs & Insects, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Corruption Jon, Elias is Jon's godfather, Entomologist Jon, Gen, M/M, Moths are both Corruption and Beholding, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketakoshka/pseuds/Ketakoshka
Summary: John Amherst Sr. is not prepared to raise a kid, and Jon Amherst Jr. is just really into bugs.-Jon is the Corruption's kid.
Relationships: Eventually - Relationship, Jane Prentiss & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, John Amherst & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Dread Child Jon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884709
Comments: 18
Kudos: 284





	Parasitic Love

"And when at last the eggs hatched, they bit into her brain. She thought of her son… the tiny boy who'd brought butterflies on flowers and dug up wriggling worms to watch them greet the rain. She thought about those same worms chewing up his corpse… chewing through her corpse. When at last they chewed through her brainstem, she could almost see her new children as they crawled about in her eyes… The End."

John Amherst finally looks up from the last page of the horror novella to see wide amber eyes looking back at him. For a small moment, when his mind misinterprets the emotions in those eyes, he feels a little thrill at being able to scare his ward finally… but that is far from the truth.

"I liked that one!"

Amherst sighs inaudibly and sets down the book on the growing pile of disturbing tales; he's never managed to spook the little monstrosity, and he's almost certain he'll never be able to. "It's bedtime now, wriggler."

"But Ami!"

"Bedtime, Jonathan."

Jon’s pout only lasts long enough for Amherst to fetch the disturbingly realistic plush of the Cymothoa exigua, or tongue-eating louse. Once the stuffy, nicknamed Cymo, is finally in his arms, Jon allows himself to be tucked in. "Love you, Ami," he murmurs and snuggles into the mound of old, worn blankets.

After a moment, Amherst presses a kiss to his ward's forehead and replies, "love you too, little parasite."

* * *

Amherst has to hide a grin behind his hand when when Jon stomps his foot at the end of his tirade about disinfectant protocols in the hospital his anatomy class was dragged to. He's always found his ward's open disdain for humans to be quite precious, even when the young pre-teen would bring home a myriad of disgusting insects and worms.

In the years, Jon's room has come to be host to a tiny colony of driver ants, two female orchid mantises (Lotus and Winkle), nineteen phasmids (one of which is a Peruphasma schultei named Honeywell), four owlflies (Charry, Copper, Claris and Canada), two white plume moths (Salt and Sugar) and one death's head moth (Endling). The moths were gifts from the Beholding, delivered by a confused Elias Bouchard when he and Amherst met two months previous. When Jon gets like this, Amherst wonders if he's going to need more aquariums for the insects waiting just outside...

"They wouldn't even let us see the medical leeches!" he snaps and throws his hands in exasperation. "I don't think I've ever been to a more disappointing field trip."

"You're twelve," Amherst replies before taking a drink of coffee. "I don't think human twelve-year-olds are allowed to mess with medical equipment."

Jon groans and flops into the kitchen chair. "I even wore the best shirt for it…" His jacket opens slightly, revealing a tshirt bearing a vampire leech with the text "I vant to suck your blood".

Amherst grins, his eyes lit with sadistic delight. "Would you feel better if you came with me to work tomorrow?"

Jon turns sharply, his long black hair falling out of his face to reveal pale yellow eyes that glow with delighted, temptation. "Can I go to the hospice floor… or surgery?"

"Of course… and if you're good, I'll let you see the medical leeches."

* * *

It's not very often that Amherst has to deal with other avatars of his own god, let alone those of the other dread horrors. However, for once he's almost grateful to see the smarmy face of Elias Bouchard. He's loathe to allow the institute head into his house, but he needs Elias’s help. Endling had died a few days earlier, just after Jon lost four phasmids to a sudden fungal infection and Charry to old age; he’s been almost inconsolable since.

Amherst opens the door and ushers Elias inside, glad to see a box held carefully in the man's hands. The den is mostly empty when they enter it; Jon’s sitting alone on the couch, reading his way through another infectious disease textbook. None of his bugs are out of the room, and neither is Cymo, even though Jon still cuddles up to the stuffy on occasion.

"Little parasite, Elias Bouchard is here."

Jon only makes a noise of acknowledgement before finally saying, "hi."

"Hello, Jonathan."

With a thinly-veiled, annoyed expression, Amherst sits down on the couch near his ward and gestures for Elias to take one of the armchairs. A moment later, Jon snuggles up to Amherst, pointedly ignoring the intruder in favor of grumbling until a hand slides into his hair.

Elias’s grin turns sharper yet more amused at the obvious disregard; he Knows that Jon isn't fond of others but that can't be solely laid at Amherst's feet. He's bored at school and bored of the stupid squabbles and young children. Elias wonders if Jon would have belonged to the Beholding in another life.

At last, Jon opens his eyes and looks at Elias with curiosity when he feels  _ them.  _ "You… brought me more?"

"Of course," Elias replies, brilliant blue eyes glinting with fiendish delight as he holds out the box. "Beholding let me know about Endling's passing."

Jon blinks at him, first in confusion but then to chase away the tears threatening to fall. "Thank you… Would you like to see Sugar and Salt?"

_ 'The white plume moths,"  _ Beholding supplies.

"I would love to…"

* * *

Sometimes, Elias wonders if killing Gertrude Robinson was really worth all this hassle. Sure, Sasha James will make a fine archivist, but she, Timothy Stoker and Martin Blackwood are a force to be reckoned with. He's tried subtle manipulations to get her to go the route he wants her to, but she's just not capable of feeling paranoid about the other two; it’s so damn frustrating.

A knock on the door drags him out of his thoughts. "Yes, Rosie?"

"Jon Amherst Jr. is here to see you."

Against the bitterness of his mood, Elias finds himself smiling. "Send him in, please…"

"Of course."

A few moments later, the door opens to reveal a young man streaked with dirt and holding a specimen container with a couple of flesh worms inside. His long black hair is slowly falling out of the braid, making him look half-homeless instead of a respectable entomologist with the lovely pastime of sickening people who annoy him.

"How have you been?" Elias asks, only to get a groan in response when Jon flops into the chair across from him. "That bad?"

"Jane's missing," Jon explains, "but I found these outside… They're not from her hive, but…"

Elias carefully notes how deep the bags under Jon's eyes have gotten, and he Knows that Jane's been missing for a while. Jane Prentiss annoys the hell out of Jon; this is a fact that Amherst and Elias are well aware of. But on some level, he cares for the flesh hive and would be distraught if something happened to her.

"I'll keep a lookout for her," Elias replies. "If I see or hear anything, I'll let you know."

* * *

When Martin Blackwood doesn't come into work for the fifth straight day, Elias finally takes notice… and oh, hell.

Jon picks up on the third ring, slightly out of breath, and there's a loud buzzing sound near the phone. "Uncle Elias? What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he reassures. "I found out where Jane Prentiss is, but she's alright… Also, did you answer your phone in the bee room?"

"Yea," Jon retorts, "it's hive check day for the carpenters and honeybees. I'm on my last hive."

"And?"

"It's about time to split the 4th honeybee hive up. They're doing really well…" After a minute, Jon sighs, "where is she?"

"Tormenting one of the archival assistants. I'll send you the address."

* * *

As Jon climbs up the stairs to the apartment of one Martin K. Blackwood, he can sense the spatial difference starting in the stairwell, and he knows that Jane is hiding in a type of pocket dimension that Jon himself uses to sneak around in hospitals or past border security with illegal little treasures. He can feel the Corruption's caress deep into his bones, feel the draw of his mother's love dragging him upstairs.

And there Jane is, knocking off and on at a door, hissing sweet nothings and listening to the flesh worms sing. Jon almost wants to sit there and listen to the choir, but he really doesn't want to give her an audience when he's this mad with her.

"Jane Prentiss! Where the fuck have you been?"

Jane cuts off abruptly and turns to look at Jon with wide eyes. "Around," she whispers, and her voice sounds strained.

Jon’s brow wrinkles in concern, and he steps towards her, careful not to crush any worms even as they part for him eagerly. "Are you sick?"

"I do not know…" She takes a deep breath and then Jon’s hand. "I'm worried for the children… what's going to happen when I die."

Jon can feel the strain in her body and knows that the time is coming… "You have a choice, Jane. That human can't take them. You are their mother… and as long as you want to stay with them, you'll get a chance."

"Will I?"

Jon pulls on the sickness that crawls through her body, giving her some relief; it’s easier to make decisions when you aren't terrified of dying. "Yes… you will get to decide if this is the life you want… or if you want to die." His hand comes to rest on her cheek, a soft smile breaking through the worried anger as a worm crawls partly out and nuzzles at his fingers. "Go home. I'll swing by tomorrow to see how you're doing, okay?"

Jane nods. "Okay…" With that, she wanders down the hall, her body swaying with each step. The worms crawl after her, many squirming back under their mother's skin with careful, delicate movements.

Jon sighs loudly when the distorted dimension crashes and leans up against the wall, seemingly unphased that the plaster behind him is rotting with his foul mood. He's angry that Jane didn't come to him or Amherst with her worries… He's upset that she'd try and hide this from him… and he's annoyed that she went after one of Beholding's archival assistants.

Now he has to apologize for her.

Eventually, the door across from him cracks open, and Jon looks up to see a haggard, ginger man looking back at him. "Is… is she gone?" the man asks hopefully.

Jon feels the tiniest urge to lie, but it would be unnecessarily cruel. "Yes. Jane is gone."

The man breathes a heavy sigh of relief before seeming to realize something. "She didn't hurt you, did she?" He sounds so suddenly panicked, his gaze sweeping over every available spot of flesh to ensure no bloody holes are visible.

Jon chuckles lowly and bounces forward off of the wall. "Jane won't hurt me… You're Martin Blackwood, right?"

"Yes…" Martin replies, his face suddenly guarded, and his fingers curling tighter to the corkscrew in his left hand. "Why wouldn't she hurt you? And how do you know my name?"

"Your boss… my godfather, Elias Bouchard sent me," Jon starts, holding up his hands to assure Martin that he means no harm. "And Jane is my… friend, I guess?"

"You guess?"

Jon frowns deeply at the sardonic response. "It's complicated, okay? I don't do friends." He crosses his arms and leans back into the wall again. "But she came to me after she became a flesh hive and I helped her out."

Martin stares at him for a minute longer before shaking his head and stepping back into his apartment. "Well, Elias’s godson, whatever your name is, you might as well come in… as long as you don't plan on killing me."

"That would be a waste," Jon calls back but follows the ginger inside nonetheless, "and my name's Jonathan Amherst Jr. But you can call me Jon."

* * *

Jon slams the door to his and Amherst's house, falling back against the wood with a resounding thud.

After a bit, Amherst peaks his head around the half-wall that separates the kitchen from the entrance. "How's the bugs?"

"Fine," Jon replies, but his wide eyes tell a different story. "Uncle Elias helped me find Jane."

"And?"

"She's close to the decision… but she was worried and harassing an archival assistant."

"Go on…"

"His name is Martin… He made me tea, and we talked for a while. He likes spiders and moths and praying mantises… He wears big comfy jumpers, and he gave me a hug when I left… I have his phone number…" Jon looks up at his caretaker with confusion and panic. "Ami… I think I'm in love…"

Amherst wonders if he should feel bad when Jon faints. He doesn't.


End file.
